


Fever

by ResearchBlackwingsAndDenial



Series: Home Remedies [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11x04, Caring Dean, Coda, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fever, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Season 11, Sick Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ResearchBlackwingsAndDenial/pseuds/ResearchBlackwingsAndDenial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>11x04 coda<br/>Dean wants Cas to feel better.</p><p>First installment to the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/375956"> Home Remedies </a> series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever

**Author's Note:**

> I've been in bed all day because I'm sick and I was feeling super useless and all I could do was write so here's a bit of Sick/Comfort Destiel. I hope you like it. :)
> 
> ✧･ﾟ:* ✿ *:･ﾟ✧
> 
> A lovely person suggested this fic could become a series and after that, I couldn't get it out of my head until I did make it into a series. 
> 
> These stories follow my headcanon for what happened between episodes 4 and 5 of season 11, or at least, they do at the moment.
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoy them! ♥

 

 

 

When they come back from their hunt, the first thing Dean does is check on Cas. He throws his bags inside his room and all but runs to Cas’ door. Once he’s there, though, you’d think there’s a bomb on the other side of that door from how painfully careful he is at opening it. He ducks his head inside and sees his laptop discarded at the foot of the bed, and a bundle of sheets rising and falling softly. He’s breathing, means Cas is doing his version of sleeping, where he just lays there with his eyes closed and tries to breathe in and out while “emptying his mind”. Or at least that’s what he’s told Dean. Unconscious is unconscious, though.

Satisfied with the lack of convulsions going on in the room, Dean goes to take a bath. He’s _filthy,_ blood and dirt all mixed up with his sweat and painting him from head to toe. He goes into the shower making faces, thinking he must smell like _Hell_ and not even hesitating to finish both his shower gel and his shampoo, scrubbing himself until his skin is all pink and tender. He changes into a white t-shirt and sweatpants. He shaves and properly bandages his wounds before going to the laundry room and deciding which clothes to keep and which are already beyond saving.

He finds Sam in the kitchen and fixes them a couple of sandwiches. They speculate about Amara while they eat but after a while Sam turns in for the night. He stands and clasps Dean’s shoulder.

 

“I don’t know, man. We’ll think about it in the morning alright?” and with that Dean is left alone in the kitchen.

 

He finishes his sandwich and brings the two left to Cas’ room with him. Just in case. He places the plate and a glass of water on the nightstand and carefully peels the sheets from Cas’ face. He looks worn out as if he’d been in the hunt with them, Dean looks at his bruised face and feels a lump forming at his throat. Stupid Rowena. Who the fuck does she think she is? Using his angel as a weapon… _The_ angel, he means… _An_ angel…. Whatever, Cas. He’ll kill _that_ bitch soon as he sees her again. But not without demanding she fixes Cas first, far as he knows she could’ve lifted the curse but thrown another, leaving him sick.

She’ll regret it.

He feels his forehead. Is burning hot, and clammy. Dean exits the room once again and when he comes back he has a wet cloth with him and a small bowl with water. He sits in the bed next to Cas and places the cloth in his forehead. Cas wrinkles his nose and burrows deeper into the mattress. Dean chuckles a bit, and then Cas leans into the touch and moves closer to him.

 

“You smell nice.” Cas’ voice is rough, more than normal and Dean’s stomach kind of jumps a little.

 

“Hey, I thought you were asleep” He speaks softly as if it would hurt Cas’ ears if he didn’t. And hey, you never know.

 

“I don’t sleep, you know that.”

 

“Well, that... that thing you do…I don’t know, man. Thought you were out” Dean brush Cas’ hair away from the cloth and Cas just hums in response.

 

Dean eyes his laptop again. “You got tired of Netflix?”

 

“My eyes burn” And yeah, Dean _had_ noticed the lack of bright blue in the room and now he knows the reason why.

 

“I’m 98% positive you have a fever, Cas.”

 

“I’ve never heard of an angel getting a fever, Dean”

 

“Well, I never heard of an angel getting a tattoo either so…” He refreshes the cloth and puts it back in place and Cas just hums again.

 

Dean sweeps his hand over his hair again so that it doesn’t get wet… and because it’s so soft, damn it. “Guess anything can happen, huh? Lemme see your eyes”

 

He never heard of an angel that growls either but here is Cas, thrashing his expectations as ever.

 

“C’mon, Cas. Don’t make me try to open them for you.”

 

Cas growls again and turns his body, facing opposite Dean and leaving him with the cloth hanging in the air. Dean rolls his eyes and throws the cloth into the bowl. Leaves them on the floor and comes around the bed. He crouches down in front of Cas

“C’mon! Don’t be such a baby.”

 

The lamp on the nightstand goes off and the room turns pitch black.

 

“Don’t call me that” comes the grumpy response and Dean can feel his frustration getting the best of him.

 

“Well, what should I call you then?! You just blew a lamp and only because you don’t wanna show me your damn eyes!”

 

Silence. Then,

 

“…I only managed to turn it off, I don’t think I’m strong enough to overpower the current.” And Cas’ hushed tone is the only thing that shows Dean he practically just yelled at the angel. The sick angel, who’s always taking it upon himself to erase every little discomfort in Dean's life. _Fuck._ Dean sighs heavy and reaches out to turn the lamp back on.

 

He almost whispers now. “Cas, please let me see your eyes. I only want to help you feel better.”

 

Cas frowns but doesn’t open his eyes. “What if I do have a fever, Dean? What if my grace is gone?”

 

He sounds afraid, Dean’s heart kind of shrinks a little and he reaches to brush Cas’ hair out of his forehead, but Cas probably assumes he’ll pry his eyes open and flinches back; so Dean kneels by the bed and lightly touches his hand instead. “Your grace is not missing, Cas. You just turned off the lamp without even looking at it. And you’re showing no other signs of humanity. You’re not hungry are you?”

 

Cas scoots closer to the edge of the bed, and to Dean. He shakes his head. “It’s weak, though, what if I fall?”

 

Dean draws soothing circles in the top of his hand. “Maybe that won’t happen. Maybe it’s just focused on healing you and there’s not much left for your mojo or to keep your vessel’s immunity.” But even as he says it, Dean knows that probably isn’t the way it works.

 

“But what if it does? I’ll be human and useless again, a burden to you here.”

 

Dean tastes something bitter in his throat. “No.” He places his free hand on Cas’ shoulder and squeezes. “Hey, don’t say that. You’ll never be useless, Cas. I was an idiot for kicking you out, that’s on me, I should’ve never told you to go.” He kisses the top of Cas’ head and only realizes he did it when he pulls back. His eyes widen, alarmed, but then he just sighs again when Cas doesn’t react. “You’re our family, Cas. We love you. We want to help you feel better. And we want you to stay here. With us.” _With me._

Cas opens his eyes and Dean just _knows_ that his words won’t come so easily now.

 

“I’m terrible as a human” he looks defeated.

 

Dean smiles crookedly at him. “Well, that’s only ‘cause no one taught you how to be one. If it happens again, I’ll make sure you become the best at it. …I mean, if you want. ‘Course.”

 

Dean wants to roll his eyes at himself, but then Cas smiles, all small and sincere and Dean looks at his lips for a moment too long and… _That’s dumb_ … So he looks back up into the angel’s eyes.

 

“Your eyes are red, that’s why they burn.”

 

Cas frowns. “Like Crowley’s?”

 

And Dean has to laugh at the innocence the angel just _radiates._

 

“No b-” _Woah there, Winchester._ “buddy. Like mine when I get a fever.” Dean Winchester does not call Castiel _baby_ , not unless he’s teasing him. And he’s not right now. So he should shut up.

 

He gets up and comes to kneel again but with the bowl in hand. Places the cloth back in Cas’ forehead. Cas just stares at him for a while, stares right into his eyes as Dean refreshes the cloth once, twice. Dean should be used to it by now, but it’s been a while and his skin kind of tingles and he decides looking at the cloth is _really_ important right now.

 

“Thank you.” Cas is still smiling like that and Dean smiles back. He can’t help himself. Cas has been in bed for days and he was a grump when Dean came to see him and now he’s _smiling,_ and _that_ smile… fuck it, he is entitled to be proud. He isn’t entitled to stare at Cas’ lips, though.

 

He takes the cloth and drops it again inside the bowl. “I think we’re done with this for now.” He feels his forehead again. It’s not hot anymore. “Yup. We are.” He smiles wide at Cas, proud of his work. “Eyes burn?”

 

Cas rubs at his eyes. “Not so much”

 

“Good,” he says, barely audible. Cas is staring at him again, with gratitude and that silly adoration he gets sometimes. For some reason, Dean can’t get up.

 

“You want me to stay here with you? Keep you company? I mean- You’ve been huddled here on your own for days.” The back of his neck gets itchy as hell.

 

“I’m not the most joyous of companies now, Dean”

 

Dean’s shoulders slump, barely perceptible, and he looks at his knees on the floor. “’Course… I should go to sleep anyways, ‘s getting late” No doubt, he should stop with the mumbling.

 

“But I would appreciate if you chose to stay here.”

 

Dean looks up at Cas, sees him fidgeting with his hands and gets this immense urge to just kiss his lips. _Stupid._

 

He stands up instead, drinks half the glass of water in the nightstand and places the bowl beside it. He walks around the bed again and sits, propped up on the headboard, Cas turns around and faces him.

 

“I don’t want to stop you from sleeping,” Cas says, apologetic. Dean slides down a bit and faces him.

 

“You won’t. I’m gonna sleep, and you’ll watch over me. Right? Like you used to?”

 

Cas smile gets wider and Dean’s heart beats wild. “Of course.”

 

“Good” Dean gives up to his shameless wishes and tucks Cas against his chest. “Now close your eyes angel, it’s still better if you don’t force ‘em” Cas shuts his eyes willingly, they were probably starting to burn again, and he grabs Dean’s shirt by the front of his stomach, pulling him close. He’s all awkwardness and lack of experience, but Dean’s not about to tell Cas how he should freaking cuddle. Besides, since his arms are tucked at Dean’s tummy, Dean can wrap his arms around him and hold him easily.  

 

Dean drops a kiss at the top of Cas’ head without hesitation now, because he felt awesome when he did it before and he wants to do it again, like, repeatedly, but he only does it once and he rests his chin there, on the angel’s soft hair.

Cas sighs against his chest and a million different things are stuck at the back of Dean’s throat. They’re old things, but they’ve never been as strong as they are right now and Dean is having a hard time keeping them in.

He can’t say it, not here, not now. Not when Cas has nowhere else to go, when he’s stuck with them for a while at least, when he has no choice but to stay with them, with Dean. Not when Cas can barely look at him for too long because he’s so sick, not when Cas is feeling sad and is seeking comfort wherever he can. Not here, not now.

No, Dean wants to say it when Cas is healthy and happy, wants it to be a reason for Cas’ happiness to increase. He wants to say it when Cas is free to go wherever he wants, he wants to offer Cas a choice, and he wants Cas to choose _him_ , not to just stay with him because he has to, but to _choose_ him, to have two paths and choose the one Dean walks. He wants Cas to need him for who he is, not because of what he can offer, not because he needs shelter and he needs to be safe, but because he needs to be with Dean. He wants Cas to need him like he needs Cas. And hopefully, he will.

 

One day, maybe he will.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Whoever you are, I'm honoured that you would take some of your precious time to read my work and I would love to hear from you. ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ) You can find me [ here ](http://research-blackwings-denial.tumblr.com) and in the comments section.


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